The Magic of the Moon Goddess
by Hot elf
Summary: Zevran working a special kind of magic on Fenris and Caitlin Hawke. Delicious little story with my two favourite elves, set in the 'A Free Man' universe. Enjoy!


_Author's Note: A tiny bit out of character, I'm afraid but I had to stretch credibility a little to allow for my favourite elfwich. At first I considered making it an erotic dream for Caitlin, but this works just as well, I think._

*** The Magic of the Moon Goddess ***

Caitlin was tossing and turning on her bed, her body under the thin linen shift covered in a fine sheen of sweat. She could feel Fenris thrashing about next to her in his sleep, the proximity of his warm body less than welcome for once. The current heat wave had already lasted for more than three weeks. The summer sun was burning down mercilessly, and not even the tiniest cool breeze from the mountains helped alleviate their suffering. By now they were all thoroughly sick of the heat.

Isabela had taken off towards the sea, hoping it would be cooler on her ship, but Zevran had stayed, wishing to avoid the stink of rotten fish and stale water in the harbour. He bore the hot weather better than they did, claiming it reminded him of his native Antiva. It was at his suggestion that the three of them had moved their beds up to the flat roof of the horse stable, and for a few nights she had actually been able to rest. But tonight, a huge full moon lit the night sky so brightly that sleep eluded her.

With a resigned sigh, Caitlin gave up and sat. A shadow moved close to her, and she realized it was Zevran. "Can't sleep, cara mia?" he asked in a whisper as he sat down on the edge of her bed. Like all of them, he was wearing as little as possible, just a pair of thin linen pants. Sweat was glistening on his slim, well-muscled body and darkening the roots of his long blond hair.

"I'm still too hot," she complained. "Not even your Antivan tricks can help me sleep tonight."

He laughed quietly. "Ah, but you see, my sweet, in Antiva the summer nights aren't for sleeping. They are for feasting, talking, celebrating, and for making love of course!"

She was about to reply with a sarcastic remark - when did Zevran ever _not_ mention love-making. But then she took a closer look at his moonlit face and found an unexpected air of sadness there. She realized that behind the casual remark he was hiding some sorrow, maybe the recollection of a special night, spent with a special someone. With a soft smile, she raised her hand and gently cupped his cheek in a gesture of pure tenderness. He smiled back wistfully, leaning into her touch.

Suddenly she felt a tiny movement behind her and became aware that Fenris had woken up and was watching them, a strange expression in his luminous green eyes. Caitlin tensed, remembering his reaction the last time another man had touched her. But this was different.

He propped himself up on his left arm and began stroking her back with his right hand, in slow sensuous circles, until he felt her relax. "Go on, Zev," he said softly. "Tell us more about Antiva. It seems it isn't all Crows and murder, after all."

They both listened enthralled as Zevran's soft rich voice began painting a detailed picture of his beloved home for them, as he spoke of summer heat and lively discussions, duels and cat-fights, the saucy smiles of pretty young girls, dancing in the street, their full skirts swirling around their long legs. He described sumptuous banquets under the lights of paper lanterns, sweat glistening on warm bodies, life, laughter, passion. They could hear his deep affection for his homeland in his voice, and his longing for a life he had forfeit. His accent became more pronounced, as if he was travelling back in time, and the gaze of his amber eyes appeared to reach a lot further than the narrow valley around them.

When Caitlin realized Fenris' hand had moved to her breasts, softly caressing them, she drew in a quick breath. Zevran had noticed too, of course, the heightened senses of the assassin ever watchful. With a small sigh of regret, he began to get up. "Well, I'd better leave you two love-birds to it, then, eh?" he said.

Caitlin sighed too, settling back comfortably in her lover's arms, when Fenris suddenly put his hand on Zevran's, causing the rogue to look at him in surprise. "Stay," she heard his voice, rough and dark. "Don't leave." And with these words, he slowly moved Zevran's hand to her hips, his eyes meeting the Antivan's with a steady gaze.

Warily, she turned up to look at him. "Are you sure, love?" she asked.

Fenris' voice sounded dreamy and faraway, as he answered. "I too remember nights like this, under a full moon, back in Tevinter. At the slave quarters, there was an old woman from some obscure swamp tribe, a shaman of some sort. She used to say that such nights belong to the moon goddess, that they are part of our dreams and have no bearing on our reality. Anything could happen on a night like this."

Zevran needed no further encouragement. In a flash, his hands were upon her, teasing, stroking, tormenting her. Caitlin moaned with pleasure. Few people realized that when Zevran was bragging about his sexual prowess, he wasn't in fact exaggerating. His fingers and lips explored her body with a sure touch, reading even the most minute reaction and adapting his caresses from one moment to the next. He was a master at this art, and her skin tingled under his hands.

When he spread her legs and she felt his tongue parting her hot, wet folds, she emitted a small cry, her hips arching up towards him in longing. "Patience, my sweet, patience," he whispered, enlisting Fenris' help in holding her down so he could proceed. Between Zevran's experienced ministrations and the sensation of Fenris' rough calloused hands on her breasts, creating a delicious friction against her hardened nipples, Caitlin felt as if she would die of pleasure.

Fenris watched her face flush in ecstasy as his hands roamed over her, occasionally brushing against Zevran's. Those brief touches made him shiver. It was as if he felt a spark of some unknown energy fly between them. As Caitlin's sighs became more urgent, he caught Zevran's gaze and briefly nodded at the assassin. Zevran let go of her, turned her gently around and pulled her to a half-sitting position between his legs, her back resting against his chest. His eyes never leaving Fenris' face, he gently spread her legs, offering her to the elf. Fenris entered her with agonizing slowness, effectively embracing both of them as he slid deep inside her.

When he began to move, Caitlin, caught up between their firm, muscular bodies, realized she had never felt anything so good. As Fenris' rhythm got faster, more frenzied, she felt Zevran's hands travel down to the point where their bodies joined. Unerring, his fingers found the centre of her pleasure, touching her for the briefest of moments. She cried out, peaking violently, her muscles clamped hard around Fenris inside her. He gave a ragged groan at the same moment, and she realized that Zevran's other hand had been busy too. Within seconds, she felt her lover lose all control, pounding into her with two, three swift, powerful strokes and collapsing on top of her with a stifled cry of pleasure.

With a contented sigh, Fenris lay back, softly pulling her with him, until she was on top of him, resting against his broad chest. She gave a small moan of disappointment when she felt him slide out of her, but it quickly turned into a gasp of delight when she felt Zevran lifting her hips, entering her from behind in a swift sure stroke. Fenris' hands had begun to caress her breasts again, leaving the Antivan free to hold on to her hips with both hands, controlling every move they made in a perfectly choreographed sequence. She felt her lust rapidly draw close to another climax as Zevran led her on methodically. Only seconds before the end did he allow himself to lose his iron control, melting into her body with a deep groan that made her shiver and immediately sent her over the edge.

They lay in a tangle of limbs for a few minutes, panting, shivering, sated, until Caitlin slowly freed herself of the two men's embrace, wondering vaguely what would happen next and whether she would be up to more of this. She knew them both well enough to know that neither of them would be satisfied yet.

As she downed a glass of water, and turned back towards the two of them, she saw Fenris pull Zevran into a deep, long kiss. Caitlin felt a sudden sharp pang of lust and uttered a little gasp of surprise, amazed by her own reaction. She had always suspected that Fenris' experiences hadn't exclusively been limited to women, and the thought had never bothered her.

Now, however, it seemed to her that she was looking at the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Their two bodies touching, Fenris' strong and powerful, Zevran's lithe and sleek, their skin shimmering in the moonlight that made Fenris' tattoos glow like molten silver, causing him to appear like some mysterious priest of the moon goddess he had talked about. Watching the two of them embrace, kiss, touch each other, noticing their growing arousal, she shivered with a desire she hadn't anticipated. When Zevran's lips slowly travelled down the elf's body, finally reaching their destination and she saw him take Fenris slowly into his mouth, she couldn't take her eyes of her beloved's face, revelling in his beatific expression, his lust and passion mirrored in her own eyes.

Fenris came with a primal, rough cry, and Zevran slowly settled back into the cushions, a triumphant smile on his full lips, his own desire still painfully evident. Caitlin couldn't keep away any longer. With a swift move, she straddled him, burying his hard length deep inside her. Zevran groaned with delight, his hands cupping her perfect breasts, his hips coming up to meet her. She felt Fenris moving up from behind, taking hold of her hips, gently guiding her movements, up and down, in soft circles, her pleasure building again.

At this point Caitlin's memories of the night became blurred. She lost track of their caresses, neither knowing nor caring any more whose hands were gripping her waist, whose tongue was licking her sensitive skin, whose lips were sucking on her breasts. Their bodies moved in an intricate, beautiful dance of pleasure and they lost themselves in each other's touch as the waves of lust washed over them again and again and again.

The morning sun woke her early, but when Caitlin looked around, she could see only Fenris, his hair tousled, his long limbs tangled in the sheets. Zevran was gone, leaving a note addressed to them both in his bold sweeping hand. Fenris reached past her and unfolded it carefully. She watched his face while he was reading, his expression a curious mixture of amusement, regret, embarrassment and relief. Without a word, he handed her the note.

_Carissimi_, she read. _I'll make this easier on all of us by staying away for a few weeks until things have cooled down a bit_. Her lips curved upward in a quick smile at his choice of words. _Thank you both for a rare gift and a memory I will treasure forever. Zevran._

She looked up at Fenris, her lips trembling slightly, unsure of what to say. "He's wise, our Zevran," she heard him mutter as he pulled her into a deep embrace. "The best thing we can do is be grateful to the moon goddess for the spell she put upon us."

*** The end ***


End file.
